


Last Laugh Lane

by cherophilia



Category: Arctic Monkeys
Genre: Cyborgs, F/M, M/M, Science Fiction, Teleportation, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27957656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherophilia/pseuds/cherophilia
Summary: Florence unveils the true mystery behind her disappearance as she wakes up over the clutter of instruments, naked as the day she was born.
Relationships: Alex Turner/Jamie Cook, Florence (Original Female Character)/Alex Turner/Jamie Cook/Nick O'Malley/Matt Helders, Jamie Cook/Nick O'Malley
Kudos: 3





	Last Laugh Lane

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work on progress. Additions, errors, and changes are momentarily updated.

This is her every day. This is her everywhere. She is a one fine enigma beneath her ivory skin. Oblivious to the daylight, engaged in peace of her own sanctum; and on the dark innerside reclines the stillness of her memory. An ocean on space.

The sun of her infancy never sets. Fatality of her own rigid life never suspends, traversed with surprises unlikely to those little red and green boxes under pine trees; nor the collection of explosives booming into the sky, blooming like flowers on spring, and glows joy into the children’s eyes. As much as she wanted those for herself, she was never destined for such momentary surprises.

She has a long ebony hair that conceals her naked frame. Delicate hands placed under her bumpy ribs, and her pale face slightly angled against the morning drizzle. Her hazel eyes were met by a silent fog hovering over the mossy stone building. Crickets echoes through the dark forest; midgets commemorating the ground of rotten leaves; and the smell of misty trees sends comfort and strangeness of the land. She sat quietly for a while, taking the sense of her surroundings—then down to her bare hands and limbs, where she realized the situation she's in.

Having experienced the same thing throughout her life, she's still wasn't used to the feeling. No bruises or splotches on her skin, or any previous signs of struggle. Even her mind remembers very little thing from yesterday. She always thought that no one wanted her, in result of being discarded like a common street animal. But these repetitive repercussion of events doesn't feel like the actual reason to her being sent to wherever she is now. As if she was made new to the world, again.

She wandered deeper and deeper into the woods, straight from where she came from. Her feet swept like an automaton, parallel to her mind, lost in its own confusion. The damp, cold ground wasn't enough to stop her. Nor the rush of stream nearby. Tall, slender trees appears to be crowding in, and the hum of nature grows thicker the further she made. The snapping of twigs from underneath multiplies every second, and the sonorous wave of air reverberates throughout the strange land. The lost of sensation she couldn't tell, possessed in a manner of demise.

"Aria?"

A deep, hoarse male voice came about. She paused on her tracks, her sanity gradually crawling back to her. There between the 20 feet distance stood a man's dark figure three times her size. His huge limbs draped with cloak apparent beneath the daylight. He took in the the lady's innocent expression, dumbstruck by the sight of her naked frame.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion. She doesn't know what intentions this man have towards her; because she's definitely _not_ the Aria he was talking about. Before she could point out the mistake, the man tramped on her direction in rush for her aid. His big hands wrapped her with his warm cloak with such ease. "You're not supposed to wander around this place, miss," the man concerned. "Come on. Let's get you back to Miss Fanny. I'm sure she made you a nice hot soup today."


End file.
